


Antonym

by Micutiethemitten



Category: Persona 5
Genre: AU where Ryuji quits instead of Morgana bc that actually makes sense (tm), F/M, I'm not good at tagging things., Past Child Abuse, Post! Sakura Palace, Pre! Okumura Palace, rape mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-04-26 11:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Micutiethemitten/pseuds/Micutiethemitten
Summary: "I guess all you've been talking about is using the Phantom Thieves name to pick up girls anyway." The black cat scoffs like he's won some argument. Ryuji feels the uncomfortable feeling set in, his fists clench and his jaw set. Don't get angry. This is just like all the other times. Morgana continues, "Being hyped up because of the popularity is fine, but getting conceited over it is unacceptable.""Hey," Ryuji says, throat a little too tight, he can feel his restraint bubbling, threatening to spill. Keep calm. Just take it, just calm down, "Aren't you actin' or your own benefit here, too?" Hypocrite.----Instead of finding a black cat, Haru finds a blond bandit instead.





	1. Antonym

"Yeah... the excitement levels don't feel normal... We might want to let things calm down a bit, first..."

"You too, Ann? You're just gonna go against with what people want..?" Ryuji questions, shifting his weight and frowning at her. He doesn't deny that this whole thing feels wrong, that out of all the candidates offered on the website, an overwhelming majority go for Okumura of all people, like no one else matters, but no one knows of their methods. It can't go wrong, so there shouldn't be anything to worry about...  
  
...Right?  
  
Ann gives him a shocked look, evidently taken aback by his question. She flounders a moment, before stuttering out a quiet "H-huh? N-no, but..." Simultaneously, all the others lower their gaze, staring at the floorboards. They've made their decision, he's outnumbered. The decision has to be unanimous, but Ryuji knows that he won't be able to convince everyone. He doesn't want to start a fight. Doesn't want to give them another reason to call him stupid.  
  
A second passes, and Ryuji's gaze turns to the floorboards too. Defeatedly, he mumbles, "...For real..?"  
  
Nervously, Futaba crumbles, "...Looks like we're not going to agree today, then."  
  
Silence prevails among them, uncertainty. For once, Ryuji doesn't understand how he's going to pull this out of the slump, doesn't know how he's going to lighten the mood again, so he stays there and thinks desperately of something, rusted cogs grinding in his head.  
  
"Sheesh. Some team you are. What's with all this hesitation? I can't stand this!" Morgana proclaims, standing from his spot on the table and pattering closer to the blond, looking at them all with what can only be assumed to be a disgruntled expression. "Even you, Ryuji! You just back down the moment someone disagrees with you!"  
  
Bewildered, the ex-track star turns again, his expression melting into a defensive one. Lowly, he huffs, "What...?" What was he supposed to do? If he'd argued, he would have been insulted anyway! He just can't win here! And the way Morgana's talking, the 'even you', makes it seem like the monster cat was _supposed_  to be on _his_  side! Why is he getting told off?  
  
"I guess all you've been talking about is using the Phantom Thieves name to pick up girls anyway." The black cat scoffs like he's won some argument. Ryuji feels the uncomfortable feeling set in, his fists clench and his jaw set. Don't get angry. This is just like all the other times. Morgana continues, "Being hyped up because of the popularity is fine, but getting conceited over it is unacceptable."  
  
"Hey," Ryuji says, throat a little too tight, he can feel his restraint bubbling, threatening to spill. Keep calm. Just take it, just calm down, "Aren't you actin' or your own benefit here, too?" _Hypocrite._  
  
"My appearance might have changed, but I'm still an admirable human!" Morgana retorts, and the bubbles in the pot rise higher, they wobble at the edge of the cracked pot, the pot held together with some glue and a few band-aids.

"At the very least, I'm more admirable than some _carnal_ **_blond_ ** **_monkey!_ ** "  
  
The pot does more than spill over. The pot's contents melt over, burning away the glue and the band-aids and leaving fragments of it left behind. The pot fragments melt under the heat, liquid crashing down and coating every surface, all rational thought, all coherency, every fear, every reflex, every little bit of his restraint.  
  
"AT LEAST THE GIRLS I PICK UP WOULD TREAT ME BETTER THAN **_YOU_ ** EVER DID!"

Silence. Everyone is staring, and it makes his bad leg crawl like it does when he thinks of Kamoshida. It’s as if he’s back there, with all his friends staring at him and whispering as Kamoshida’s grubby fingers crawl all over him, leaving his body bruised and beaten and broken, and no one will help him, he’s alone, he’s always been alone, he’ll always be alone. He’ll-

“Ryuji, what’s gotten into you?” Akira asks, looking concerned, and any other time, Ryuji would slam his mouth shut, apologize, hide in the corner with his tail between his legs. Now is not one of these times.

“What’s gotten into me is that I’d give my _fucking_ life for you, and when I need you most, you _always_ leave me hanging, like with the track team-” He feels it, the pain in his heart and the bubbling fear that they’re going to throw him away for his lack of complacency. “They beat the ever-lovin' shit out of me, Akira. Right in front of your fuckin’ face, and you just stood there and watched. You didn’t even ask me if I was okay.”

“I thought…” Akira looks shocked, fumbling for words, despite being the most self-assured guy Ryuji knows, and it breaks his heart, the feeling of guilt, the paralyzing thought ‘I’m sorry, please don’t leave me behind, this is my fault, not yours, you’re perfect, you don’t deserve me, it’s my fault, it’s always my fault’ runs through his head like a fire alarm.

Don’t stop. Don’t quit.

“And where were you when we went to Shinjuku?! Where were you when two guys hit on me, groped me, and _chased me through the streets!_ Where were you when they _caught_ me? You were on the train home! You left me when I was going to get _raped_!”

“Ryuji, stop it!” Ann eventually says, taking a step forward, and with it comes more choking guilt, swarming him and making every bone in his body want to back away. He’s not supposed to be like this, he knows he’s not, it’s like he’s broken from some lines of code and is denying it its right to function. He’s broken enough already, what can a little more do?

“It’s all of you. All of you constantly berating me for shit that’s not even my fault. Calling me stupid, or reckless or some kind of animal! Is it _fun_  to constantly insult me? Think that just because I’ve suffered from two cases of physical abuse that a few insults aren’t gonna fuck me up even more? That it doesn’t affect me because I’m such a goddamn braindead idiot that it just bounces off me?” He questions, and Ann, once again, falls silent.

“You all call me reckless, but someone has to be! If it wasn’t for me memorising the volleyball team members faces, Shiho would have never gotten her justice! If it wasn’t for me suggesting we continue being Phantom Thieves at our first celebration, Yusuke would have never been free from Madarame! If it wasn’t for me getting those guards clear by being a distraction, then we’d have never gotten Madarame’s treasure! If it wasn’t for me jumping in front of a taxi, we wouldn’t have seen Makoto again after Kaneshiro took her! I’m the only one here who’s willing to get his hands dirty, aren’t I?”

More silence.

“Every single battle, every time one of you misses, it’s ‘What? You missed? Impossible!’ from this goddamn cat! The moment I mess up, ‘Wow, Skull, you’re pathetic’! Every time I defend myself from him insulting me, I get told off, and he never gets _anything_! You all join in, too! Because you all know I have nowhere to go! I don’t have any friends to spend time with! You all know that I’ll never leave, because I’ll always be stupid, idiotic, brainless Ryuji, taking hits for everyone! I’m sick of being blamed for everything! I’m sick of being called useless and reckless! I’m sick of pretending that it’s okay, that every single time it happens doesn’t feel like a sledgehammer to the chest!”

His gaze turns to the rest. Head hurts. Chest hurts. Eyes hurt. His cheeks are wet, but he can’t understand why. It’s like the tears weren’t supposed to be there. It all feels wrong. He can smell alcohol and burning cigarettes, his leg is crawling with phantom hands. An incentive to quit this, to return to complacency before it’s too late. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He sucks in a breath, exhales, and turns to hide his tears. “I’m sick of pretending just to help you guys sleep at night."

“Ryuji!” Ann’s hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him back. It’s tight, desperate, and reminds the Zio user of his father, angry and hateful and ready to slam a glass bottle down his back for running away from him. Without thinking, Ryuji slams his elbow back, shoves her away and watches her tumble to the floor. He makes the mistake of looking at her there.

He feels sick, shaking and barely holding himself together. It reminds him too much of the way his mother lay crumpled on the floor after his father beat her senseless.

_Just like your father_ , says the sickeningly gleeful, masochistic side of himself, the side that slams the sledgehammer to his chest, _run, coward._

Ryuji takes several steps back, wearing an expression the epitome of soul-crushing guilt on his face, and flees. They won’t catch him. Training in the Metaverse has made him quicker than them.

He runs for God knows how long, and doesn’t know where he is when he bumps into a young lady, perhaps a year older than him.

Together, at the front of a space station, Haru helps him think of a code name.

“Cavelier, like the dog,” Ryuji suggests, cross-legged with her mirroring him in front of him. Their knees are touching.

“Cavelier, like the hat,” Haru smiles sweetly, laughing at him, but not a shred of it is at his expense. It’s refreshing, and for once, he feels like he can breathe again.

They’re not Phantom Thieves, but they’re something.

Something new.


	2. Synonym

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “S-sorry…”
> 
> Haru blinks, her gaze shifting upwards from where she’s wrapping the bandage around Ryuji’s arm. The blond’s been quiet for some time now, up until now, at least, and it seems like he’s finally said what he’s wanted to. She lets out a hum, sets down the little spool of gauze in his lap, and gives him her full attention. Ryuji physically squirms under her gaze.
> 
> “...Why are you sorry?” The Empress asks softly, tucking a strand of copper-gold hair behind her ear. “I can’t recall anything that you should be sorry for.”
> 
> Ryuji visibly winces, gaze faltering as he avoids her gaze like the plague. She’s patient with him. Gives him time to figure things out before speaking. He opens his mouth a few times, shuts it, gives a weak little sigh and finally lets it out. “You’re having to patch me up because I got my stupid ass hurt.”
> 
> \---
> 
> It's Haruji, folks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I wrote more. Fuck.

“S-sorry…”

Haru blinks, her gaze shifting upwards from where she’s wrapping the bandage around Ryuji’s arm. The blond’s been quiet for some time now, up until now, at least, and it seems like he’s finally said what he’s wanted to. She lets out a hum, sets down the little spool of gauze in his lap, and gives him her full attention. Ryuji physically squirms under her gaze.

“...Why are you sorry?” The Empress asks softly, tucking a strand of copper-gold hair behind her ear. “I can’t recall anything that you should be sorry for.”

Ryuji visibly winces, gaze faltering as he avoids her gaze like the plague. She’s patient with him. Gives him time to figure things out before speaking. He opens his mouth a few times, shuts it, gives a weak little sigh and finally lets it out. “You’re having to patch me up because I got my stupid ass hurt.”

“Oh? You did?” She questions, raising a finger to her lips and tapping them in thought, “I remember you bravely jumping in front of a Shadow to protect me, Sakamoto-kun.”

The blond shifts, looking like he’s about to explode, he doesn’t know how to respond, staring at his knees like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. So, Haru takes it upon herself to continue, “You’re so much stronger than me, Sakamoto-kun. I could have gotten really injured if you hadn’t stepped in. This is the least I can do to thank you.”

“...Thank me..? H-hey, Haru, you really don’t gotta do that. I was just-” Ryuji fumbles, face a light red at the praise he’s getting. He’s living off it, thriving, and for a second, Haru wants to smother him in it and see how red he gets. But she can at least show some restraint. Instead, she simply smiles and picks up the gauze again.

“I understand, but thank you for looking out for me, Sakamoto-kun, when I get strong enough, I hope I can do the same for you.” A few more wraps of the material to secure his arm safely,” We can look out for each other,” A gentle snip snip snip of the scissors, and she raises herself to his level, tucks her fingers under his chin and moves him as if he’s soft cotton, looks him right in the eyes when she speaks, “I think that will be nice, don’t you think?”

Tentatively, with his whole being reeking of hesitation, Ryuji nods meekly, looking away and smiling lightly. How sickeningly endearing. “Yeah, that sounds nice. I’d like that,” His voice is quiet, barely there and unsure, but it doesn’t matter, because the words themselves are what stick with the young lady the most. She pulls herself to her feet and sits beside him on his bed, slips his fingers between hers and holds his hand tight.

It’s quiet, despite neither of them talking, the two of them can hear the streets below, busy and noisy and going on with their lives, adequate background noise for the two of them to just think together.

“Haru,” Ryuji says, eventually, “...Can you call me Ryuji? I…” A pause, “I don’t like people calling me Sakamoto,” Haru feels him squeeze her hand, “...It reminds me of my dad.”

“Hm?” Haru hums, offering an opportunity to talk to her. She understands why she herself may not want to be known as Haru Okumura, now that she’s seen _his_ heart, the horrible, iron factory that may as well be a prison for her father’s employees, worked to death, but Ryuji hasn’t opened up about it yet. Before, she was willing to wait before her new teammate offered himself to her, willing to take the pieces he offers her, willing to take her time, but even she can admit that she’s feeling the piercing spikes of curiosity prickling her mind. “Is he dead?”

“...Nah. Might as well be. Haven’t seen him since he left us for some other girl younger than my mum. The perv.” He shifts, propping his right ankle on his left knee. His free hand shifts to scratch at his neck, cautious. “...The scars on my arms. They’re from my dad. He used to get drunk and…” Ryuji falls silent, squeezes her hand so much she thinks he might crush it. He shakily inhales, exhales, counts to ten inside his head, swallows the lump in his throat.

“...He was always drunk.”

“Ah,” Haru looks over at him, frowns just a little bit, understands that the scars that line up his arms are just the tip of the iceberg. Understands how oppressive his situation was, the need to put on a smile and pretend that everything is okay. ‘Just smile,’ she’d say to herself whenever her father mentions the marriage. ‘Just smile,’ she thinks, whenever her heart hurts as she reads the newspapers, the rumours surrounding her father. ‘Just smile,’ she begs herself when Sugimura wraps his fingertips around her wrists and-

The sour memory is tainted by a jolt of electricity, a bump in the night. A head of bright blond hair, demanding attention. A face with dry rivers down his cheeks. She remembers yelling, Sugimura and this boy she knows from school arguing, Sugimura drawing closer, Sugimura being unable to catch up as Sakamoto takes her hand and runs.

She remembers the wind in her hair, the laughter that escapes her as they navigate the alleyways with ease. She remembers running with him into the Metaverse, remembers tumbling into a fight and summoning Milady to fight against some Shadows, remembers watching the Shadows burn to a crisp as electricity jolts through their systems and fries it inside out. She remembers watching Ryuji fight like he belongs among storm clouds, with the crackles that jump between the nails in his baseball bat, like shark teeth and feral grins lighting up the room is what Ryuji is supposed to be, where he feels alive and free. She remembers carving into the skin of her enemy with the sharp end of her axe, feels the thrill of their lives at her mercy in her bones, and understands how he can be that giddy. It’s exhilarating. She remembers the slow-motion as a Shadow descends on her, and remembers oh so vividly the pound of sparks on the floor as Ryuji bolts to shield her with his own body, the grit of teeth as he sends it tumbling into the darkness, leather ripped and dripping red to the flooring. He’s hurt, but he fights until it dies, and Haru feels a warm feeling sweeping over her, feels herself get stronger.

They leave after that. ‘Cavalier’, they decide. ‘Skull and Cavalier’. A force to be reckoned with!

It’s a work in process.

Without thinking, she instinctively draws him closer, nestle his head in the crook of her neck and run her fingers through his hair. Ryuji visibly stiffens, unable to comprehend the warmth wrapping around him, more solid than a pillow or blanket that he curls around on his bad nights. It doesn’t take long for him to melt into the affection.

“...Ryuji-kun, it’s okay. It’s going to get better. I know it may not be much, but maybe we can change your father like we’re going to change mine?” Haru suggests, and Ryuji thinks, nods, just barely, and Haru hopes he’s feeling better.

“Sorry. Not used to this comfortin’ shit,” The blond mumbles, and the brunet laughs, and it’s her turn to nod.

“Mm. Me neither. Most of the people at school are only my friends because they know about my father.”

A bird hoots outside in the pitch black, and, for a while, the pair of them are content to stay like that. Ryuji eventually shifts, pulls away, pulls himself to stand up straight and smiles awkwardly. Haru finds herself easily returning the gesture.  
  
“You’re welcome to stay the night,” He offers and glances out the window. A few stars are visible, small, but significant enough to be noticed. “Don’t think the trains are gonna work out at this time, so I’ll just take the couch. You can have my bed.”

Haru stares up at him, gives him a warm smile of understanding and sees the relief on his face when she doesn’t want to leave him alone tonight.

“...Alright. Uhm, well… If you want anything, let me know, okay? I’ll be getting some blankets for the couch. Gnight.” He looks flustered, poor thing, pulling a few of his clothes out of the dresser and turning to look at her. The ex-Phantom Thief considers his words again, frowning a little in thought, “...Thanks.”  
  
“...What for?” Haru asks, bewildered, watching as Ryuji shifts again.

“...For running with me,” a second passes, and that’s all it takes for red to colour the blond’s cheeks and seep up to the tips of his ears, “Ah, geez, that sounded weird. What I meant was- Ugh- nevermind… Just… thanks for thinking I’m brave, or whatever. I just… didn’t want anything to happen to you, s’all.”

Haru laughs for the second time that night, voice light and mirthful, “Thank you for helping me, Ryuji-kun.”

The blond beams at her brightly, and it’s like picking up your phone at 3AM and letting the light assault your eyes. You’re never ready.

“No prob. Gnight for real, Haru.”

“Goodnight, Ryuji-kun. Sleep tight.”


	3. Archaism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru pulls herself to her feet, and Ryuji chases her for a second before giving up. He scrambles to his feet silently to follow her, being as quiet as possible. Haru struts to the front of the shelves like she owns the place, determined in her conviction, and proclaims loudly:
> 
> “Halt, Vigilantes!”
> 
> \---
> 
> Morgana is terrible at saying sorry.

He sees them again on their second visit to his palace.

Haru and Ryuji are sitting up on the shelves when they come in, it’s easier up there. It’s a dark little corner the guards never look at, no one sees them, and it’s better that way. Haru’s getting better at fighting, but her persona is still pretty weak. Though... Her axe skills are a work of art, clean and seldom sloppy, and the grenade launcher she’s been given makes her dangerous beyond compare. She asked him, once, if it was normal to get a thrill from Shadow’s begging for their lives on their hands and knees, and, needless to say, Ryuji doesn’t think he’s ever been more terrified in his entire life. As Cavalier, she’s ruthless, but he understands, his thrill stems from the electricity sending jolts of white-hot heat up his spine as he darts across the battlefield. His thrill is the way his bat makes contact with something firm and rigid, the kickback of his shotgun. If hers is the crumbling mental state of her foes, then to each his own, Ryuji supposes.

They’re discussing how to make things quicker, how to speed things up with just the two of them, but it’s hard as hell, considering that they’re just two people on a time limit. It’s so different to the total of seven he used to have. It’s so much closer than he’s used to. Even the first target, Kamoshida, took all four of the Original Phantom Thieves… Can they really do this alone?

They’d made good progress that day though - if you ask Ryuji. They’d thought the two of them could push it some more and get to the safe room by the end of the day. Supplies are placed between them, a rain check before they go in again, knees touching like they usually do. He’s come to love the positive physical contact where he can get it, and he thinks that Haru can tell, otherwise there’d be no way she would keep giving it to him. Right?

“Joker, watch out!” He hears, and he goes rigid then and there. Haru turns her gaze to watch them, wary of the way Ryuji sucks in a breath and doesn’t let it go for anything. It’s the quietest the blond’s been, quieter than an empty, dark room. Haru watches them for a good few moments, hears them try to discuss where Ryuji might be. How, if he’s here, then he can’t have gone beyond the door.

It’s not true, they can go beyond the door, but they aren’t right now, and Ryuji really wishes he was. Anything for them to not be in the same room. Haru pulls herself to her feet, and Ryuji chases her for a second before giving up. He scrambles to his feet silently to follow her, being as quiet as possible. Haru struts to the front of the shelves like she owns the place, determined in her conviction, and proclaims loudly:

“Halt, Vigilantes!”

What the eff.

He’s still shrouded in shadow when the others turn their heads, and looking a little shocked is far from the truth. They look completely flabbergasted - a word that Ryuji loves the sound of because it sounds so dumb - and silence befalls everything. Haru doesn’t move an inch, resolute as ever.

“...A black mask..?” Fox questions, blinking owlishly, “I would have never thought that our pursuer would be female…”

“Do you think she has Ryuji?” Panther asks, and Ryuji watches as Haru’s hands twitch, clasped behind her back. Her face remains stony, looking down at them. He can feel himself shiver. Below them, Oracle’s fingertips are frantically scrambling over a translucent green keyboard.

“She’s a Persona User…” She mumbles, “Not a Shadow, and… Ryuji’s here too...”

“I am giving you ten seconds to leave! This palace is no place for you, so you can go!” Haru affirms, and Ryuji is five seconds away from jumping in there and getting her out. She’s his friend, and he’s supposed to be there for her. She looks frustrated when they ignore her commands and assault her with questions, about a person who wears a black mask and has been following them from the beginning, and Ryuji knows she’s not because she had her awakening with _him_ , not way before Madarame.

“Give us our Ryuji back!” Panther sounds pained, and it only makes his guilt creep at the edges of his fear, like a drug slowly taking over. _Go back_ , it purrs insistently, like a black cat stretching over the remains of a sofa, knowing smile making sharp teeth glint in the night as its back curls like the curve of a sickle. _I want to go home. They’re home. It doesn’t matter if home hurts. They’re all I have, all I need, all I’ll ever need… Just go home and hope they forgive you for asking too much of them. Just hope they’ll forgive you for being so greedy._ Numbly, he takes a step forward, and stops himself, just before it’s too late. What is he thinking? He can’t go back. He just can’t.

His feet move again when he decides who he wants to go with. He comes to a stop in front of _her_ , eyes only on her because he can’t bear to look at the rest of them. His heart is pounding in his ears, and he forces himself to say “You okay? You kinda just walked away on me, Cavalier.”

“Ryuji!” The rest of them yell, and he ignores them, watches the way Haru’s shoulders tense up at his worried look, watches the way she holds her breath. She must be angry with him, considering he hadn't told her about them, but he hadn’t been ready. Not yet. It’s too soon, Ryuji’s still hurting.

He can only hope she understands his hesitation.

“You’re not bothered by that?” She asks, voice low and foreboding, and he swallows, frowning a little bit and dropping his relaxed facade the moment it came. Cavalier receives no answer. Ryuji doesn’t really know how to respond, and those below had fallen silent, watching the pair like hawks and making Ryuji’s skin crawl with memories of Kamoshida breaking his leg in the mud, all his peers staring and whispering. He feels disgusting. She hesitates a moment, sucks in a breath and lets it out, “Calling you ‘our Ryuji’. Like you’re their property,” and her behaviour suddenly makes a whole lot more sense, coming from the soon to be trophy-wife should their plan fail. But it can’t. They can’t fail. _They won’t fail._

The blond fights himself from saying ‘ _I don’t mind. I’d rather be owned than alone_ ’, but stops himself last second. It bothers him that he wants to go back, bothers him that he thinks staying in a situation where he’s constantly berated is what feels right. Maybe it’s how fucked up he is because of his Dad and Kamoshida. Maybe it’s why his Mom stayed with his Dad so long. Or maybe he’s just a masochist. He doesn’t like any of the options.

“Why should it? I’m not their property anymore,” Ryuji chooses to say instead, shrugging, a facade contrasting his inner turmoil, angry with himself for not noticing sooner why she was so upset. She stares at him with wide eyes, and he turns his head just enough to look at them, his friends. The Thieves he’s been with since April. The Thieves, _who are his home_. The blond scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, sighing gently, “Seriously, if you only came here to get me, then you can forget about it. I’m staying here with Cavalier, so now you’ve got a free seat to add whoever ya want to your catmobile roster. I heard that that detective Akechi’s good cannon fodder.”

“...Cavalier…? You mean your friend? The one wearing the black mask?” Yusuke asks, humming gently. Ryuji gives a nod, making the blue-haired artist give an ‘ah’ in understanding.

“As in... the royalists in the English Civil War..?” Queen questions with a hum, “...She almost looks the part, especially with the hat…”

“No. Cavalier, like the dog, the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.” Haru grits out, shutting her eyes and exhaling. She looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here, and Ryuji agrees. Skull opens his mouth to speak before he’s cut off by a boyish voice that he knows all too well.

“Are you serious, Skull? We’re giving you a chance to come crawling back with your tail between your legs, and you just reject it without even thinking about it.” Mona shifts his weight, speaking up for the first time since this whole thing started, “Guess you really haven’t changed at all.”

“Morgana.” Akira apparently doesn’t condone the actions of the feline, which is apparently a thing now. It’s rare to see Morgana get scolded. Ryuji’s too tired and stressed out by the whole situation to think of something to say to that.

“Fine!” The black cat huffs, tail flickering from side to side, obviously put off from doing what he has to do “Ryuji, I’m sorry!” Skull’s read somewhere that it’s a sign of aggression, of warning to stay away, as opposed to dogs who do it to show excitement. As if he needed more things to worry about. “I’m sorry about all the things I said about you! You aren’t useless all the time! We could really use you on our team still!” Morgana continues, placing his hands on his hips. He doesn’t look apologetic at all, in fact, he just looks grumpy about having to apologise to Ryuji.

“Aren’t you still calling him useless, though..? Success rate levels just dropped...” Oracle doesn’t sound pleased, eyes obscured by the bright red, darkness-piercing goggles. Her back is hunched, probably already knows the idea of Ryuji coming back is long gone at this point.

“A little more tact would have been nice…” Makoto sighs, raising a hand to cup her face in a facepalm, and even the young artist gives what seems like a soft noise of disapproval. Out of the corner of his eye, he spies Cavalier’s hands clenched into fists, the intensity of it travelling to the rest of her forearms and making them tremble. Anxiety shoots up Ryuji’s spine like her behaviour’s bleeding into his own, and sharp, shark-like teeth gnaw at his lower lip.

“...Uh-huh,” Ryuji turns his gaze over to his ex-teammates, looking at all of them except for Ann and Akira. He knows full well that his restraint, the only thing holding him back from begging for forgiveness on his knees, can be snapped in an instant if he looks at his closest friends. Are they even his friends anymore? Do they even consider him that? “As much as I love it that you’re apologizing to me by calling me useless, I’m not interested. I’ve got more important things to do than get harassed again. If I wanted that, I would have just kept quiet like I usually do, so… Good luck with whoever’s heart you’ve decided to steal now. Just don’t involve me or Cavalier. Okumura is ours.”

Things feel a little easier to manage when he’s wearing the cold steel mask over his face, shadowing his eyes and hiding them just enough to help him feel secure. He nudges Cavalier, feels her tense up next to him until their eyes meet, and asks her with his voice threatening to crack, “...Wanna go? We should be able to make it to the Safe Room if we’re careful. Or, if you want, we can go home. I don’t mind.”

“Careful? You? As if you could even get to a Safe Room without us!” Morgana bristles, huffing, evidently wounded by the poor reception to his apology, “Besides! There’s a door in the way that you can’t go through! Are you just gonna kick it a few times until it opens?!” It takes everything in him to not respond. He wants to get out of here without a fight, and ignoring the cat is the easiest way to do that. Ryuji keeps his gaze trained on Haru, watches as her arms unfold from behind her back, watches as she sucks in a shaky breath, watches as she makes her choice.

Haru decides, without hesitation, “Very well, let’s continue with our earlier plans.” and Ryuji doesn’t think he’s ever felt more relieved. Hopping down, he spies his partner in crime doing a sick flip on the way down. He makes a mental note to comment on it later once he finds a good point in time to. The blond almost wishes that he’d have done something similar to add to the power it held. The two of them make their way to the door, watch as the light above flickers from red to green. Accepted. The way ahead is clear, and Ryuji doesn’t spare the others a glance.

“See ya,” He waves noncommittally, nonchalant as they make their way down the hall. The swoosh of the door shutting sounds behind them, and they’re alone.

Just the two of them. At least he hasn’t run away this time.

Despite feeling the need to vomit from his nerves lighting up like a firework display, he turns to Haru, reaching for her hand and clasping them together. Yellow and purple linking and holding tight. “You okay?” He asks, gaze travelling up her arm, past her clavicle and the slope of her jaw, past her nose… right up to her eyes. She nods, just a little, turning to look at him as she lets out a shaky breath, “Yes. I will be. Thank you, Ryuji-kun. How are you feeling..?”

“...Pretty shit, honestly,” Ryuji responds truthfully, feeling like he can trust her with his real feelings. His heart is thundering like a jackrabbit in his chest. He’s still not used to telling people how he feels like this, not used to coming clean about his problems.

Haru’s expression softens in sympathy. “Ah,” she mumbles weakly, “And those are the famous Phantom Thieves..? How vulgar...”

“They’re not that bad…” Ryuji finds the words coming out of his mouth before he can understand why he’s still defending them, and he isn’t quite sure why he is.

“Not that bad? Didn’t you see them, Ryuji-kun?! Trying to take you back, calling you useless… thoughtless… and…” She falls silent, squeezing his hand, “Doesn’t it make you angry at all?” It reminds him of the night before, when she stayed the night, and their talk about Ryuji’s feelings being important and how he shouldn’t feel guilty for them. With _them_ , he’s never wanted to burden them with his feelings. With Haru, though… He feels secure, warm and safe with her, like she’ll understand and value his inner workings. The warmth comes with a soft purple-ish pink tinting the edges of his vision. He’s attributed it to her element, like how she’s jerked her hand away from his whenever he accidentally gives her an electric shock by accident. Cognition melting into reality.

“...Why would I be bothered about that? Ain’t plannin’ on going back. Like I said before, I have more important things to worry about. Like changin’ your Dad’s heart. It ain’t changin’ itself, is it?" He shrugs gently, offering her a smile, "Before I forget, though... awesome flip before. Knocked it outta the park.”

Thankfully, the stuffiness in his ribcage fades away when Haru laughs her light, little, dainty laugh that’s music to his ears. She directs her gaze ahead of them, nodding with confidence, procuring her axe “Thank you, Skull. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Shall we go?"

Her eyes are twinkling with determination, her mirth infectious, already wrapping Ryuji under her positive spell. Ryuji’s already wrapping gloved fingers around his baseball bat, grinning brightly. “Let’s go kick some ass, Cavalier.”


	4. Euphemism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...Haru? You’ve been staring at me a while now.” Ah. She’d been staring. Oh dear.
> 
> “...Eh?” Haru jumps with a squeak, flushing a bright pink and looking away, evidently flustered by having been caught. “Forgive me, Ryuji-kun. I just got distracted.”
> 
> “Oh,” Ryuji says with a frown, thinking a moment and then smiling at her again, bright even in the low light. “Well, I get that. Don’t worry about it. I trust you enough to know that if I had somethin’ on my face, you’d tell me, yeah?” Haru gives a slight nod, encouraging him to continue, his eyes flicker back up to Haru’s place, making an odd looking face. “...So… We’re gonna have to face your fiance, huh?”
> 
> \---
> 
> I dunno how to describe this chapter... Please just read it.

“...You’re alright with me sleepin’ over?”

“Yes,” Haru smiles at him sweetly, brushing her fingertips over the back of his hand. He seems to appreciate the reassurance. “You let me sleep over before, Ryuji-kun. It’s only fair I return the favour.”

“Well, yeah, but… Your place is huge… You probably have a king sized bed, mine was just a single… How rich are you, anyway? I feel like a crack in the path.” Ryuji mumbles, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Ever since Haru proposed the idea, he’s been running his fingers through his hair awkwardly, like he doesn’t know what to with himself. Like he doesn’t feel like he’s enough to even breath in the general vicinity of her home.

Haru can’t help but feel a little guilty, however. It feels wrong to invite him over just for the reassurance she’ll need once she sees Sugimura again. She doesn’t want to be alone when Sugimura finally decides to show his ugly mug after not coming home for a few days. Currently, Ryuji is her only lifeline to security. But they’ve agreed to be clear about any issues they have and work on them together, agreed that Ryuji will help with her current dire situation, agreed that Haru will be unwavering support with Ryuji’s own issues with the Phantom Thieves. It’s symbiotic, but she feels like she’s asking too much of him.

Not that Ryuji can’t take all her issues and more. He gives himself entirely to aid her, so much it’s almost dizzying to think of how dedicated he is. She’s never met anyone who’s cared so much so quickly.

In the quickly fading light, she turns to look at him, looks at the way the orange-pink light bounces from his hair and stains his skin with warmth. His eyes, however, seem to be the warmest, melted chocolate laced with sparks of yellow, bright like wildfire. It reminds her of a fireplace in winter, intimate, enough to push her to push forward and live as she pleases. It encourages her to seek independence, away from the shackles tying her hands behind her back.

“...Haru? You’ve been staring at me a while now.” Ah. She’d been staring. Oh dear.  
  
“...Eh?” Haru jumps with a squeak, flushing a bright pink and looking away, evidently flustered by having been caught. “Forgive me, Ryuji-kun. I just got distracted.”

“Oh,” Ryuji says with a frown, thinking a moment and then smiling at her again, bright even in the low light. “Well, I get that. Don’t worry about it. I trust you enough to know that if I had somethin’ on my face, you’d tell me, yeah?” Haru gives a slight nod, encouraging him to continue, his eyes flicker back up to Haru’s place, making an odd looking face. “...So… We’re gonna have to face your fiance, huh?”

“...Yes. Please do not worry, though. I’ve been thinking of a plan to avoid trouble, with my father, at the very least. With Sugimura, however… I do not believe there is a way we can get around you punching him in the face.” Haru smiles despite herself. That had been very satisfying. Ryuji was able to put her feelings into a punch that had been enough to cause a loud crack to sound throughout the alleyway. Surely, the blond had broken her fiance’s nose. How fitting.

The blond grits his teeth, sharp and shark-like, dangerous to fight with, and even more-so to play with. Not that Haru would ever try to. He licks at his lips, testing his words a moment, and Haru begrudgingly - yet also not at all begrudgingly, Ryuji is pleasant to look at in all meanings of the word - forces her eyes back up to his eyes as he speaks, “I would say I’m sorry bout that, but… He wouldn’t let go of your wrist, Haru. He was man-handlin’ you like he owned you.”

“He does that,” The brunette sighs, sticking her thumbnail under the nails of her opposite hand and raking out dirt from underneath them. It’s therapeutic, in a way. Makes her feel like she’s cleansing herself of the dirt that is Sugimura. Ryuji’s unwavering support and moral compass are also refreshing. She can’t think of anyone but Ryuji who thinks Sugimura is a true scumbag, that the whole marriage is horrible and knows she can’t breathe properly when her fiance’s around, who thinks of her as a person with feelings. “Thank you, Ryuji.”

The blond blinks, obviously confused. He’s not a mind reader, can’t see all the inner workings of her mind, but she hopes he knows that she has so many things to be thankful for. He’s a miracle.

“You’re the one good thing in my world right now,” she says, watches as Ryuji lights up and commits it to her memory for whenever she had to deal with her father or Sugimura alone. She’s not alone anymore. When’s the last time she’s been able to say that?

“‘D be lyin’ if I didn’t think the same thing, Haru,” He says, genuine to the grave, not hiding anything behind saccharine smiles. The blond has no motives other than her happiness, giving himself wholly to her. He seems resolute, turning to look at the mansion with determination. “Let’s do this thing. Let’s kick some ass like we usually do.” And with a gentle nod from Haru, the two set their path up the admittedly short steps to get to the front door.

After unlocking it to get inside, Ryuji walks into pampered poodle life like one might walk into a brick wall. Very abruptly. Eyes sparkling, he can only be left with mouth agape as he looks around at the modern dark grey paint coating the walls and all the fancy glass furniture adjourning every surface.

There’s a staircase at the opposite end of the room, a staircase on either side and curling up to meet at the centre to get to the second floor, and every inch of the walls showcase her father’s achievements. There’s a box filled to the brim with opened letters near the door, and many a time, Haru’s read through them, the numerous amounts of complaint letters that have been read through by servants and thrown away so Okumura doesn’t have to read them. It’s disgusting.

Light cascades from the glass chandelier above, fractured eyes covering the room and her life, shedding light on all her secrets, leaving not a single thought to herself. It’s suffocating, like being interrogated under a harsh lamp in a dark room, and she hates it to her very core.

She understands Ryuji’s excitement, however, she’d been shocked when her new friend had opened the door to his apartment and shown her the life of a common citizen.

(“Sorry, know you’re rich and all, but this is all I’ve got,” He apologizes as she looks around his living situation. The blond retreats to the kitchen, and when Haru reminds herself to follow, she finds the blond with a pale pink apron tied around his waist. “Mum’s workin’ again all night, so it’s just us. I can make dinner, but it probs won’t be as good as whatever your servants make or whatever.” Ryuji looks put off by such an idea like he’s not good enough to please her. She smiles, pleasant in her demeanour, delicately moving to meet him where he’s set out some ingredients around the chopping board. Hooking her fingertips around his wrists, she watches him turn to look at her, confused.

“How can I help?” She asks, and he looks surprised, his confusion melting into a beam as he puts down the chopping knife and pulls out another cutting mat for her.

“...I’ll cut the meat, and you do the veggies, ‘kay?” He offers, flushes a light pink at her enthusiasm. Later, after they set the meal on the table, she realises he’s used to eating alone because they have to pull out a desk chair from Ryuji’s room for them both to take a seat.)

“There you are! Do you think it’s funny, running off by yourself with some thug and bringing him back? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A voice cuts in mid-reminiscence, and Ryuji snaps out of his amazement to glare daggers at Sugimura’s body. If looks could kill, the man would be dead on the ground. Despite the clear evidence of a broken nose clear as day on the businessman’s face, it’s obvious he hasn’t learned his lesson. Eyes narrowed in Ryuji’s direction, he sneers, pulling back his upper lip and showing off his white teeth. It pales in comparison to when Ryuji mirrors it, sharp fangs glinting in the bright light, carnivorous in comparison to humanity’s omnivore roots. It’s evident he’s ready to go for the jugular should Haru request it of him. For a moment, she considers it, but reminds herself of her position, sneaking in the shadows and waiting for the perfect opportunity to cut Sugimura’s throat. Metaphorically, of course. But still, the thought thrills her.

Sugimura evidently looks surprised by Ryuji’s silent rebuttal, scoffing and smoothing down his suit. “How dare you bring the stray into my house without my permission. People like him shouldn’t be anywhere near you. It’s exactly why you should have bodyguards protecting you all day like I have told you time and time again! I won’t allow you to be manipulated and tainted by people who act and dress like him. Doesn’t he have a shred of decency?!”

Sugimura isn’t expecting an answer, and before Haru can, he’s making his way towards the pair with long strides, smug serpent coiling around two rats and squeezing the air from their lungs, ready to eat them both whole. Ryuji’s eyes narrow, sharp slits as his bottom lip raises significantly. The brunette can practically hear Ryuji growling at this point. Good. She wants to scare Sugimura.

Unfortunately, the businessman seems unphased by it, looking down on Ryuji as though he’s a wild, stray mutt. Haru thinks of him as more of a loyal dog, waiting for an owner to return at last. She thinks of him as a human representation of Hachiko, the dog at the train station. Haru’s always loved that story.

“Father said he could stay. It’s been planned for several weeks, Sugimura-san,” Haru huffs out a cold lie after a deep breath, goaded by the way that Ryuji steps forward just an inch beside her. So far, so good, she thinks, and continues, “I recommend you heed my caution when I tell you that my father does not like those who claim what’s his as their own, his property included. Let your broken nose be a reminder of that.” The strawberry-blonde, without waiting for a response, takes Ryuji’s hand and leads him up the stairs, smirking to herself when she hears Sugimura give out a choked sound of disgust. Ah. Satisfying.

They escape to Haru’s room shortly, as extravagant and rich as the rest of her home. It’s large, practically the size of both Ryuji’s living room, kitchen and bedroom in one, a large four poster bed in the centre of the wall. The colours of the room are similar to the main hallway, except filled with greens and soft muted pinks, desperate attempts to make her room her own. Plants of all sizes cover shelves and corners, trying to give the cutthroat business atmosphere some life and breathability. It doesn’t work very well, but Ryuji’s presence makes the room infinitely more habitable. More than Ryuji knows.

Already, Ryuji is sat on her bed, his disapproval for hesitance incredibly refreshing and reminding her that he isn’t here for her money, nor is he here for a business opportunity. She wants to thank him for his reassurance in a billion ways but isn’t at all confident in any of them. Instead, she joins him on the bed, laughs as he flops backwards and stares at the ceiling with a smile on his face. “Now, I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’m p sure that I ain’t his biggest fan, if I had ta take a guess. Looks pretty effin’ funny with his snout’ all bandaged up, tho’, huh? Not so big and scary like that. So, where do I sleep?”

“You can sleep in a guest bedroom, or in my bed, if you’d like.”

“Well…” Ryuji frowns, obviously unsure as to how to continue or make a choice. His face is a light pink, she notes, and she thinks it’s because of the idea of sharing a bed with her. “...Which would you prefer? ...I can sleep anywhere,” Ryuji responds, and Haru wonders if he really means it, or if he’s exaggerating. In her mind, there’s a Ryuji sleeping on top of a fridge, and the mere thought of it is so cute and funny she laughs out loud, much to the blond’s dismay, judging by the way his cheeks light up a bright pink like neon lights at night. The moment ends as quickly as it started, but the ex-Phantom Thief won’t stop staring at her.

“...Yes?” She asks, watching him blush even harder before turning his head away, mumbling out an apology. Haru needn't ask, she knows his embarrassment would only worsen if she did, instead choosing to loop her fingers in his own. The blond’s eyes dart to look at their joined fingertips, quicker than lightning, and then up to meet her gaze.

Thinking for a moment, he continues, tone melting into annoyingly cat-like sweetness rather than embarrassment, “If I sleep in your bed, do you pwomise to pwotect me from angwy Sugimuwa-san coming into my woom and stabbing me to def in my sweep, Hawu-chan?”

There’s a soft, barely there pause. Afterwards, he barks out a laugh, and it’s so full of mirth and life that the brunette considers it a national treasure, a newly discovered wonder of the world. She dares not ruin it with her own laughter. The laughter dies down, just a bit, and she decides to fuel the fires once more. “...Perish.”

Cackling, Ryuji rolls onto his side and curls up, hiding his smile in the crook of his arm and making the room feel so much warmer than it actually is. He’s wound that tightly that his thighs are pressed right up against his stomach. A ball of sunshine localized entirely in her bedroom at this time of day, at this time of year, and she couldn’t be any more thankful for the opportunity to arise.

“God...” The blond sighs breathlessly after he finally, finally manages to calm down, “You’re one helluva girl, Haru. You know that, right?” He can’t stop smiling - she guesses, she can’t see his smile, but the way his bright eyes crinkle at the edges, he is smiling with all he’s got.

“Of course. And you’re one ‘helluva’ boy, Ryuji. That’s why we’re a team.” Below her, Ryuji sputters, and she laughs, pats his thigh in encouragement, and stands up, “Now then, I believe we can bribe Yamamoto-san into letting you cook dinner for the two of us again if you would like. I admit that I’ve been craving more of your cooking ever since you let me have a taste.”

“Wait- really? You really liked it that much?” Evidently surprised, he stumbles to his feet, eyes wide. “Uh! Yeah! I can make more food, as long as you help me with it though! We’re a team!”

Teasingly, whilst making her way to the door, hearing the hurried footsteps as Ryuji moves to keep up with her, Haru asks, “I thought that was only the Metaverse?”

“Nah. We’re a team through and through. Through food and through issues. That’s us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art used in this chapter was made by MaskedArtist at https://thesoftbehindthemask.tumblr.com ! Please shower them with lots of love!!
> 
> Full sized versions of the art can be found here!:  
> https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/411996508137979905/445493532480897024/Antonym_Ch4.png  
> https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/411996508137979905/445493596544565251/Antonym_Ch4.2.png


	5. Collocations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji has always been good at lying. If you practised happiness, you could craft it with cheap crayons and printer paper. He’d been drawing fake smiles since he was five, and hasn’t stopped even now. The circumstances haven’t changed, haven’t shifted since his father told him no one could know, and if anyone found out, his father would kill him without a second thought. Back then, it had been terrifying enough to lock him into a silver tongue and a mouth filled with lies.
> 
> \---
> 
> Ryuji meets Haru on the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i know i haven't updated in a month but is this okay? yes? thank u.

“I miss you.”

Ryuji pauses, halting at the top of the stairs and watching as Akira comes into vision. The raven looks unsure of himself, and it doesn’t feel right. Akira’s always known what to do, like he’s done it all before. An uncomfortable feeling settles in his chest. If Akira doesn’t know what to do, then how does anyone else? What is Ryuji supposed to do?

Akira’s always been the stone in the cliff that Ryuji’s hung onto for dear life since the day he met him. He’s been the one he’s looked up to, the one who he’s relied on for so long. He’s always held his hand with a bright lantern in the other and shown him the way, and it’s only since Ryuji left that the light has gone out. Maybe Ryuji’s been powering it? He’s been holding on for so long he wasn’t able to tell if he was anymore.

Ryuji settles the bag of compost over his shoulder, trying to consider his words with care, and huffs, directing his gaze to a poster on the wall. “I doubt it. If you did, you’d be trying harder, huh? You get real bratty when you don’t get what you want. If you did miss me, you’d have my back no matter what like I had yours.”

“I understand how you feel,” Akira says, voice quiet and unsure. Ryuji hates it, and he knows the raven can see the way he winces. “I understand what it’s like to-”

“No, you don’t.” Ryuji cuts him off, watches the way Akira curls inward on himself, but he keeps talking no matter how much it tears him up inside, “You don’t know what it’s like to watch your best friend walk away as two guys harass you and undress you with their eyes. You don’t know what it’s like to be beaten up while your friend just watches and then tells you that you deserve it. You don’t know what it’s like to agree with him, because yeah, maybe you are an awful person who deserves to be beaten up by the people he used to be friends with. You don't know what it's like to dread hanging out with your best friend because a cat might be there to berate you the whole time and make you feel horrible about yourself. You don’t know a goddamn thing about how I feel.”

Akira stays quiet for a long, long moment, and Ryuji takes his regret and swallows it, sighing and turning his back to go to the roof, Before he can take the first stair, Akira speaks up, making Ryuji stop in his tracks. “This is… all new. I’ve… never done this before. I never knew I could speak so much.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This… It wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to leave. This is the first time you’ve done it.”

“Yeah. No shit.” Ryuji huffs, and is about to continue up the stairs until Akira once again stops him hurriedly, as if he’s afraid that once he says it, he’ll never speak again

“You don’t understand, Ryuji. I don’t think you ever could.”

“Oh, sure. Just cause I don’t understand the metaverse, and my grades are shit, I can’t understand anything? Thanks, dude. I mean it. I really do. I thought that maybe you, of all people, would be one of the only people who didn’t think I was stupid. Who’d at least _try_ to help me understand.”

“It’s not just you- It’s everyone-! No one would get it except me.”

“Then fucking say it, Akira.” Ryuji huffs, with an air of finality in his tone, “Say it, or I’m leaving. I’m late enough for Haru as it is.” The blond waits, a good long moment, watches as his ex-best friend crumples with anxiety.

Seconds pass.

Ryuji turns, leaves his bleeding heart on the staircase and lets his regret fester in its stead. It burns like acid in his throat, clogs his lungs with sewage, makes his head spin like record, playing all his negative emotions on repeat.

He walks up the steps with heavy footsteps.

The blond stops at the top of the stairs, however, sighing gently as he thinks for a moment.

Ryuji has always been good at lying. If you practised happiness, you could craft it with cheap crayons and printer paper. He’d been drawing fake smiles since he was five, and hasn’t stopped even now. The circumstances haven’t changed, haven’t shifted since his father told him no one could know, and if anyone found out, his father would kill him without a second thought. Back then, it had been terrifying enough to lock him into a silver tongue and a mouth filled with lies.

“I fell!” He remembers lying to his teachers, his friends, other parents when he’d first started getting on his cheeks.

“I’m fine,” He remembers lying to his fellow students, body aching after another beating that he’d covered up with copious amounts of makeup.

“If I win this award for track, he’ll finally be proud of me,” He remembers lying to himself the day before his dad disappeared without a trace (before Ryuji could show him the first place trophy he’d won).

“It’s just a few bruises. Kamoshida’s strict, but his training’s working,” He remembers lying to Ann, Shiho and his mother.

“I’m not scared of being alone. I can take care of myself just fine,” He remembers lying to himself again, looking in the mirror at his tired eyes from too many nightmares after the incident, where he’d broken his future and his dreams and his leg, too.

“I don’t wanna die,” He remembers lying to Shadow Kamoshida, right as he’s about to get choked against the wall and executed before Akira saved him.

“I wanna die,” He remembers lying through exam week, lying his head on the table mid last-minute revision sessions with the smartest kid in school across the table. Akira smiles up at him, leans over to show Ryuji the correct formula to use, and nods when Ryuji finally gives him the right answer. His walls of falsehoods had been let down, and Akira had been allowed into his heart. Akira always knew what to do. Akira always knew what to say to make things better.

But now he didn’t.

And now, Ryuji had fled, the wound in his heart dripping with anguish as he tried to patch up his walls for the umpteenth time in his life. He doesn’t know why he trusts anyone anymore when it’s all lead to pain in the past.

He doesn’t know why he trusts Haru.

He doesn’t know why he trusts her, but he does, and a part of him really doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to trust anyone with his happiness. The fear of pain is too potent for him to feel anything but panic when an adult stalks over to him. His leg jitters when they express their disappointment with his scores on tests, all low, all mistakes, all scores that cling to him like diseases. Sakamoto is a problem child, Sakamoto just causes trouble, Sakamoto is an idiot.

No one should bother with Sakamoto.

“Oh! Ryuji-kun! You’re here! I’m so glad!”

Ryuji blinks, staring at Haru as she stands in the doorway, the light outside hitting her back and surrounding her form in an almost holy glow. She smiles at him as he stares back at her. He feels weird, standing in the darkness like some kind of weirdo, but she doesn’t seem to mind, stepping into it to meet up with him. For a moment, he says nothing, the thoughts from before still plaguing his mind. Why is Haru so happy to see him? Is he just the means to an end for her? A way of changing her father’s rotting and festering core? In the small time that they’ve been together, the two of them are getting stronger, faster than Ryuji had gotten in the Phantom Thieves. Maybe it’s something like a video game? Less EXP to share, probably.

“I was worried you had fallen down the stairs, carrying such a big bag! I was just about to come and check on you,” The small, sheep-looking girl says softly, and Ryuji mentally starts drawing his fake crayon smiles on his imaginary printer paper.

He offers her a sheepish smile, shaking his head, “...Nah. Just had a talk with someone, no big deal.”

“Oh, good! I’m glad it wasn’t anything bad. Are you ready to see my current progress with the area I set up on the roof?”

“Uh, I already know it’s a gardening space, Haru. You don’t gotta keep it a secret,” Ryuji frowns again, giving her an incredulous look. In return, the pink-coloured girl gasps in mock anger, huffing loudly.

“You could have at least pretended!” She puffs out her cheeks and blushes as pink as her sweater as Ryuji bursts into laughter. It’s bright and mirthful, clearing away Ryuji’s dark thoughts like wind against storm clouds and letting the sun shine again.

It only takes a second for the two of them to be out in the sunshine and laughing brightly, the sun bathing the roof in warmth. They’re laughing as they arrange roses, laughing as they make a plan for planting everything else. Seeds, pots and compost, water… It’s all for them, to shape and grow in the dark midsts of their future.

  


The peace only lasts so long.

"You know you two aren't supposed to be up here," Ryuji turns his head, spotting Makoto standing in the doorway, "Kurusu-kun told me he spotted you climbing the stairs to the roof, Sakamoto-kun, so I decided to investigate." Ryuji shares a soft glance with Haru, and the smaller woman sighed, looking back down and reorganising the seeds she’d picked up for the day. Ryuji, in turn, picks up the bag of compost he’d carried up the stairs and sets it down in front of several plant pots of various sizes.

"Geez, Makoto. I'm surprised you're not asking for me back, too. How cold of you," Ryuji remarked, not even bothering with giving her a second glance as he inspected the pots and carefully pours the mixture of nutrients and dirt into the ceramic. "Anyways, I don't think you have any right to tell us to leave, considering what we used to do up here. Just because we're not friends anymore you think that means you can stop me goin’ all the places that I used to go? That's a low blow. Didn’t seem to care when I used to come up here by myself, back when I had no one but my own thoughts."

Makoto splutters, evidently embarrassed, “It’s not like that. You’re the one who left, Ryuji. You can’t blame us for trying to get on without you.”

“I’m sorry that you don’t have a punching bag anymore, really sucks that shadows can’t come outside the metaverse, otherwise you’d be all set,” Ryuji stands once he’s filled the pot, making his way over to the little tray Haru is sorting out. Smiling wearily, he’s given a small handful of seeds, and he gives her a thank you, returning to the pots and standing there for a moment. How was he supposed to put the seeds in again? He runs through his memories, trying to find an answer. It takes a moment, but he finds it, the little plan Haru had made for each pot and each seed.

“You’re acting like we treated you horribly!” Makoto sounds exasperated, offended, “We weren’t Kamoshida! We didn’t abuse you, Ryuji! We made a mistake and we’d be able to fix it if you weren’t so-!”

Silence. The student council president ironically realises her mistake. Ryuji sucks in a tight breath, feels the static hang in the air that makes the hairs on his arms stick up.

“Got it,” Ryuji says eventually, tone lacklustre, shoulders sagging as if he’s just taken on a great burden, “...My fault, huh? That’s what you’re sayin'? My Dad did that a lot. Told me everything would be better for me and my mum if I wasn’t such a disappointment. Next thing I know, I’m lying against the fridge, covered head to toe in bruises.” He inclines his head with cold dead laughter bubbling in his chest, but the shift of his head is still not an attempt to look at her, “Guess this isn’t abuse. You can’t beat me up, can you? You’d get in big trouble.”

“Ryuji-”

“No, please just...” Ryuji stares down at the seeds in his palm, squeezing his eyes shut, “Please just leave me alone, Makoto. All of you. I’ll fill out a form of resignation, a formal _anything_ , just please leave me alone.”

There’s a long, long pause, Ryuji lifts his head up a little, and Makoto finally speaks up, her tone downcast and forced, “...You… You still can’t come up here unless it’s for club activities, those are the rules. If you’re insistent on… growing things here, I recommend starting a Gardening Club. I’d… be happy to help you register.”

Ryuji finally turns his head, scanning his eyes over Makoto’s body. Her hands are clenched into her skirt, trying her best to act natural despite also trying to make herself look as small as possible. Ryuji’s seen it before, the way he himself hunches over when someone calls him useless or pathetic. He feels guilty again. “I…” He mumbles finally, lamely, scuffing his shoes on the concrete, “Yeah. Thanks. A Gardening Club sounds like fun.”

Makoto nods quickly, staring at her hands as she fidgets before looking back up at the two of them and nodding again, “Right, I’ll go, then. I’ll speak to you both about this soon. Make sure you know who is going to be the leader between the two of you. I’d…” She pauses, considering her words, “Nevermind, I believe the two of you are going to argue on the other being the Club President rather than arguing about taking the title yourself. Have a good day.”

She’s gone in a second. Down the stairs from whence she came. Ryuji lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He glances over at Haru, who smiles supportively at him, and feels his apprehension melt away. He lets the silence sit there for a moment, leaning over to plant the seeds in the way Haru had described.

“I think you should be the Club Leader, Haru.”

“You’re being silly! The only person who should be the Club leader is you!”

And that is how their argument began. Makoto stood behind the closed door, realising her evaluation of Haru and Ryuji’s relationship had been accurate. Though she’s hurting, the small petty argument of ‘No, you!’ is enough to ease it for a bit.

She made her way down the stairs to go and start organising the paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art for this chapter was done by me, and you can find the art on tumblr at banmitbandit!


	6. Adjacency Pair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I admit… the airlock puzzle is dizzying… It feels like it will never end…” Haru sighs, and the two of them dejectedly return to the safe room. Ryuji almost wishes they hadn’t when he hears a sickening voice.
> 
> “Haru, what are you doing down here? You should be upstairs with your father.”
> 
> “God, dammit-” Hisses Ryuji.
> 
> \----
> 
> Haru Okumura is pissed.

It’s one of their off-days, their ‘we’re exhausted and breaks are healthy’ days, and Haru and Ryuji said their farewells after planning everything for the Gardening Club they’re going to set up.

Originally, it had just been for planning their excursions at school, but as of recent, like when Makoto caught them, it’s divulged into Haru teaching him about plants, and Ryuji bringing the pair of them lunch. He feels all mushy whenever Haru compliments him on his cooking, the back of his mind going quiet for a while. So Ryuji stays at home for the day, bored out of his mind when Pokemon fails to satisfy him. In Diamond, his Torterra is already level one hundred. It ploughs through most things, it’s not challenging.

And he’s too attached to his Torterra and his Rampardos to reset it, as dumb as it sounds, and he’d spent hours breeding for that shiny Skitty that sits all pretty in his party, level 100, for she shall be the Ultimate Skitty.

The blond practically jumps out of bed when he hears his laptop ping.

Ryuji’s been playing video games for a long time. His laptop is old, but not old enough to not be able to play some good video games when he’s bored. He’s been playing this MOBA game called LMAO for years, but it’s only recently that he’s found a consistent person to keep playing with.

CthulhusCryptid is online! Say hello, BepisBandit!  
CC: uGHHHHHHHHH  
BB: ruff day? i can send dog pics  
CC: nah.  
CC: nice dog pun though.  
BB: dog puns are my specilty  
BB: wanna talk about it tho?  
CC: we upset a friend and another won’t stop hosting meetings to ‘strategise’ on how to get them back.  
CC: no one wants to listen to my ideas. they all think that nagging them will drag them back but…  
CC: it’s tiring.  
BB: i think u shud giv ur friend sum space  
CC: same.  
CC: but they don’t want to ‘waste time doing nothing when we could be getting them back instead’.  
BB: yikes  
CC: mhm. wbu?  
BB: me and my friend have been workin out alot, so im kind of tird lol  
BB: been waitin for u to come online so we cud play some LMAO  
CC: you have my attention.

The both of them are tired, but get through a few rounds of Spellcaster’s Ridge with ease, and even though Cryptid is supposed to be a noob, somehow they have a lot of skill with a variety of characters. Ryuji makes sure to let them know often how he values them on his team, and how glad he is that they aren’t on different sides.

CC: give yourself some credit, you did just as good as i did.

It’s on his mind all of the next day. Give yourself some credit. Give yourself some credit. You did good too. Give yourself some credit. He can’t stop thinking about it, all his attacks hitting harder than usual. Cryptid is slowly working up his confidence with words like these. He wonders if they really know it.

“We’re close…” Ryuji mumbles, “We gotta be… We’ve been working so hard…” Ryuji mumbles as they enter what seems like the 100th room. He’s been feeling so much stronger lately, and he wonders if this is what leveling up in video games would feel like. He feels so strong now, and everything’s gotten easier once they’ve fought all the weaker ones. Haru still hasn’t awoken to her persona yet, and Ryuji doesn’t know if she ever will. Frankly, she’s scary enough with just her axe and grenade launcher. Downright terrifying.

“I admit… the airlock puzzle is dizzying… It feels like it will never end…” Haru sighs, and the two of them dejectedly return to the safe room. Ryuji almost wishes they hadn’t when he hears a sickening voice.

“Haru, what are you doing down here? You should be upstairs with your father.”

“God, dammit-” Hisses Ryuji.

The two of them whirl around, eyes trained on the man in the suit, Sugimura, and a man who Ryuji can only describe as a fusion of Buzz Lightyear and the Star Wars ‘I-am-your-father’ joke character that he can’t remember the name of right now. The helmet is god awful, and gives the man’s voice a strange, robotic, tone that feels like a wheeze, “I thought I told you not to associate with vulgar people! Do you understand what this would do to our reputation?”

“Ryuji, this is… How did Sugimura get into the palace?” Haru, out of the corner of Ryuji’s eye, looks terrified, and dimly, sparks shoot out. It’s a reminder of all the nightmares he’s had of both his father and Kamoshida at once.

Agony.

“That Sugimura ain’t real. He’s just whatever your dad thinks of him as,” Ryuji is sure he looks disgusted, but he doesn't care. He just wants to make sure that neither of these assholes lay a hand on her.

“What are you mumbling about? Didn’t I teach you to speak like a lady with clarity and coherence?” Okumura huffs, and Ryuji’s eyebrows knot, a growl worming its way up his throat. Haru swallows, placing a hand on his chest. Snapping out of it, somehow, they two make eye contact.

You shouldn’t. You’ll get hurt. Your persona isn’t strong enough yet.

_Trust me._

“You remember what I said, father? About me doing my best to make you happy?” Haru asks, stepping forward, her axe shifting against her hip and glittering in the sci-fi light. “This is my answer to that! Together, _Skull_ and I are going to change your heart!”

There’s quiet for a moment, Ryuji shifting nervously. “Y’know.. If I were you, I’d save the poetry for the calling card…” Haru ignores him, evidently wanting to seem resolute in her conviction, and Ryuji simply shrugs, that’s fine by him. He rolls his shoulders a crack or two, and points at the man, smirking fiendishly. Alright then, “We’re going to take your treasure!”

Okumura huffs, the sound downright dreadful through the weird filter that’s going on, “You think that you’re those Phantom Thieves everyone has been spreading rumours about? They’re nothing but cheapskates who have made a business off of other, more efficient individuals’ success! At least _I_ built my company from the ground up!”

“You built your company on the pain and suffering of others, father!”

“Exactly! Don’t you understand the Okumura motto? ‘Overcome failure at any cost, even if it means betraying others!’ We’ve been over this countless times!” Okumura seems even more annoyed by her lack of understanding, voice heavy with effects. It’s crazy. Absolutely insane.

“Mr Okumura.” Sugimura says cooly, smirking with a dark grin, “We don’t need a girl who’s had her priorities ruined by a faulty ‘moral compass’. Unless you make some sort of compromise, I won’t be able to introduce her to my father with a pure conscience.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Okumura sighs dramatically, the sound through the voice changer piercing Ryuji’s ears and making him wince. “Well, I suppose that you may take her in whichever way you wish. Lawful wife, lover, whatever.”

Haru stiffens up like she’s just been told the world will end. Ryuji watches the straightening of her spine, the way her jaw lifts up just an inch, how her posture tightens up all over. He hates it. The blond takes a few steps forward, glare harsh, and reaches for Haru’s hand. He watches her glance at him, and he squeezes her hand. I’m with you. You’re not alone anymore, we don’t have to be alone anymore.  
  
Haru looks back at her father and Sugimura, and Ryuji can see the fire in her eyes, the sadness of being used as a bargaining chip, the anger of her upbringing, the determination to push for herself. Ryuji’s going to back her up the whole time, but he knows one thing for certain.

Haru Okumura is pissed.

“I refuse.”

“Excuse me?” Okumura asks, features melting into surprise.

“You heard me. I refuse. I’ve given everything for you, even my hand in a political marriage… And you take me for granted and give me away to be that vile man’s plaything?! Just to satisfy your own ambitions?!”  
  
“You should be thrilled to be fulfilling your role as an Okumura daughter,” Okumura grumbles, his fists tightening, annoyed by his daughter's insubordination, “This is the only value you’ve had from the very beginning.”

“Value?” Haru asks, her tone suddenly cold, and Ryuji feels like beating the shit out of Okumura right then and there. She looks feint, her body shaking like it’s about to give out. “I-I…”

“I’ve seen more value in Haru in just a few days than you’ve seen in your whole goddamn life, you half-baked, fast-food shitbrick!” Skull hisses, squeezing her hand tightly when he feels her grip loosen, “I’m gonna make you eat those words!”

Haru collapses, and Ryuji rushes down with her, wrapping her up in his arms, shaking her and trying to keep her upright, she looks pained, like a wave of pain has swept her up, and out of the corner of his eye, he spots her fiance step forward, a crooked grin on his face, “Come on now, Haru, why don’t you leave that good-for-nothing delinquent… and come over to my place.”  
  
His face contorts, his body melts, right down to the core, the mass of burnt black expanding and taking up the whole room. The dark colour melds into bright and shining metal, cognitive Sugimura’s body resembling one of the many workers they’ve seen. Sugimura is just another pawn to use. The robot’s tone is gleeful, the visor lighting up with crimson red, “A high school fiance… what a turn on! I’m gonna play with you until you break!”

“Don’t you effin’ dare touch her!” Ryuji hisses, angling his body to protect her from the robot. She looks unwell, she has to make sure she’s ok- but they're gonna get killed if he doesn’t DO something-

Ryuji sees the arms of the robot slam down to hit the both of them just as the world explodes in blue flame.

Brown eyes open to spot Haru’s persona deflecting the blow, the big poofy skirt, the high collar, and the cold gaze trapped within a feathered mask held up by one dainty hand with long, delicate fingers. Her fan deflects the blow effortlessly, and Skull can hear the utterly gleeful giggle the persona lets out in his brain for a moment. Haru grits her teeth, holds in a scream of bloody murder.

“M-my hearts been set,” Haru growls, hands clenched to her sides, “You should know.”

Ryuji’s seen this before. Kinda. Maybe it’s different because her persona was so weak before. It clicks in his mind, the agonising headache, and everyone’s taken it better than Ryuji himself had. The blond had only screamed at the pounding headache in his mind, and yet everyone else had managed to utter something in response to the voice. Haru’s eyes are bright yellow, like Akira’s, like Ann’s, like Yusuke’s, like Makoto’s, like Futaba’s. Like his own. She looks resolute, pushing herself to her feet, the yellow fading and leaving behind steely determination. With a sweep of her hand, the room explodes in red, and her person’s dress opens with a flourish to reveal several machine guns.

Ryuji scuttles backwards on his hands and feet like an upside down crap, shouting in panic, because _holy shit that’s a very big set of guns up her dress what the actual hell_.

A pose, a tip of her hat, Haru’s entire being overflows with potential and the heat of blue flame, dangerously precise. “Farewell, dear father!” She says, voice clear with her conviction as she fixes him a steely glare from where he stands, frustrated and worried behind his cognitive Sugimura bodyguard. “I am no longer your subservient puppet!”

She points, and her persona fires all those bullets, each one tearing into the body of Sugimura’s body and ripping it to shreds. Ryuji scrambles to his feet, eyes wide as he can only marvel at how much stronger her persona is…

Holy shit.

Thinking on his feet, he rips off his own mask and sends a cascade of thunderbolts raining on the robot, overloading the behemoth and causing it to stumble with a stop. Haru wastes no time in launching herself at the giant, axe at the ready, and Ryuji follows her lead, her back-up, her bodyguard. She’s merciless. He’s trying not to shit himself from fear.

Ryuji spots the flutter of Okumura's cape as he turns to run, muttering something that's drowned out by his helmet. Ryuji lets him, he’s not a murderer and never will be, and keeps his attention on the broken robot withering instantly into little more than fragments of sludgy, black metal. He turns to Haru, the fuzzy hair that frames her face, elegant outfit of purples and jet blacks, axe in hand with her poise confident and certain. "Skull," She says, lifting her gaze to look at him, "I believe that this is the point of no return. I will not ere."  
  
Ryuji offers her a breathless, wide smile, rolling his posture back into relaxation. "Great, that's awesome. You mind tellin' me what 'ere' means?"  
  
Haru nods, taking a step closer to him, he feels her fingers smooth up the slope of his jaw and nudge away Ryuji's mask until their eyes meet. "It means I have chosen who I want to stay with. The path I intend to follow... I won't hesitate any longer."  
  
Ryuji swallows thickly, feels his ascot against his bobbing Adam's apple, his cheeks dust with pink from the close proximity. "Yeah...?" Ryuji asks, cautiously, voice flickering, "An'... What path have you chosen..?"  
  
She offers him a smile, amused, and her hands trail down to adjust the red fabric around his throat. The two of them are quiet, suffocating gentle silence. Ryuji feels his thoughts go muddy. Letting him go, she turns away from him, walking with certainty, "You should know, Ryuji."  
  
Flustered, Ryuji pulls his mask back down, gathers his belongings and rushes after her, tripping along the way. "H-hey! Haru! Wait up!" She does, and Ryuji doesn't stop running even as he grasps her hand and races ahead with a grin, "We're never gonna get the treasure at this rate, Cavalier!"

Somehow the airlocks don’t seem so dizzying anymore.

When Ryuji gets home, the first thing he does make himself something, quick and easy, instant ramen is the best comfort food when the day’s been long. his notifications are bleeping over and over again, indicating someone’s messaged him. Opening up his laptop, he finds the messages causing his computer to not shut the fuck up.

CC: hey, i have to tell you something really important.  
CC: i know you probably don’t want to meet up with me anywhere, but, please trust me.  
CC: there’s just something i wanna get off my chest.

Now, Ryuji’s never been one to meet up with strangers online. But there’s that thought in the back of his head that he’ll be okay this time. He dimly remembers the rules to online meetups. Public places, during the day, making yourself visible. There’s probably some other rules, but he thinks those are the most important ones.

BB: im free tomrrow? we can meat at the dinr at 3 30  
BB: sound good?

A few moments of silence, several indications that Cryptid is typing, and then deleting it again, pure hesitation. Ryuji takes another bite of his cup ramen. Delicious, but pretty shit compared to the beefbowl place.

CC: yeah. i’ll be there.  
BB: great! cant wait to see u :)

Well. It’s a date, Ryuji supposes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late? Not posting in months? I don't understand. Can you speak louder? Shh.

**Author's Note:**

> My sources told me that Mona names Haru 'Beauty Thief', and Haru just rolls with it, so here she gets an actual name change.
> 
> Many say that she looks like a poodle, but she reminds me of a Cavalier dog more.
> 
> Might add more chapters in the future haha.


End file.
